The Hatchling
by Mister Torture
Summary: Follow one woman's plight against the corrupt and sinister elements amongst the Raven Fold...!WARNING! Major timeline discrepancies ahead!
1. The Hatchling

The Hatchling  
  
This is my story. Like all stories, it's usually best to start from the beginning. Well... I'll start you off from as far back as I think can remember it. This is what you need to know. The Earth is in a state of emergency...

Many years ago, even before my birth, the great powers of the planet were ensnared in a bitter war for global dominance. Casualty rates as far as can tell were in the hundreds of millions. It was only recently that mankind has started to recover from the tragic 30 year struggle, infamously known as "The Great Destruction". Humanity raced from the war torn remains of the upper world to establish great civilizations underground. This era of the subterranean utopia was not to last however, as conglomerates battled for supremacy, and the right to claim the many advances that enabled people to survive as their own. When the corporations demanded action, they called them...

The neutral avengers. The mercenary giants. They have many aliases along the same line, rightfully given, as their sole reason for operating was for cash rewards. You could go as far to say it was their monetary vice, but it made them fierce adversaries. They were the quick fix to any problem, if one could afford their bill. They are the fighting elite. They are the Ravens.

Piloting giant humanoid robots and equipped with weapons of mass destruction, this group of mercenaries take on any and every assignment... as long as the price is right. Everything from espionage tactics to mass multi- unit assaults. Even... even murder. This is where I came in. I was the victim of one of their attacks, and it cost me everything...

I guess it could have been my parent's fault, for wanting to live so close to a PROGTECH headquarters building. At the time, it was the fastest rising industry in the line of robotics engineering and AC/MT advancement technology. It would make sense that the above-ground community in which it was based would be a wealthy one, containing a plethora of intellectual types and the pinnacle of mechanical genius. It should also have been obvious that such an area would be a prime target should a rival to PROGTECH should want to launch an attack. I guess I couldn't complain, since I was too young to care. I was content to have a nice dress on my back and my favorite toy in hand. It probably was ironic that it was a miniature AC figure. I don't know if it was odd or not that while the rest of my friends had these glamour dolls, I was blowing their heads off with a plastic grenade launcher. If only I had known that it would be a prelude to what would later become the worst day of my life... I'd have probably ripped that toy in half.

Anyway, it started off like so many other days. The scent of mom cooking breakfast for may father rousing me early so that I'd have a few precious moments to be with him before he went to work. I loved my father because, unlike my mother, he encouraged my interest in the AC's. Well, that day was special. My father was going to take me to work with him that day. So what if he only had a lousy job doing inventory for the production plants? I was going to see an AC being made. An actual AC! I remember the argument that followed with my mother over the intended trip. My mother was a beautiful woman. She reminded me of a muse from one of those ancient Greek myths. I really didn't like to see her mad, and that morning she was furious. In the end, I was going with my father to work. I remember kissing her good-bye, a hint of sadness and urgency in her voice, almost as if it were the last time I was going to see her again. If only I'd known how justified her concern was.

The factory was bustling, pumping out several giant robots in a matter of one or two hours. It was like a paradise to me. Thanks to my father, I could identify almost every part rolling off the production line. Man how I had dreamed of flying above the clouds in my own AC. I had even put together my own assortment of parts to create my perfect machine, following the rules of leg and arm weight parameters and energy supply. Not bad for a fifth grader! I was still caught up in my own stupid fantasies when I saw it. A strange new part was rolling off the line and be pivoted to the AC's right arm. It was the most beautiful piece of machinery I had ever seen. Sleek and silver, it's unique triangular shape almost reminded me of a knight's sword. I inquired to my father, and he responded with a smirk of adulation on his face, "That, my child, is an ultimate- no, THE ultimate laser rifle. We like to call it, the Karasawa". I could only watch with awe as the finishing touches were put on the AC and it began to twinge and move to life.

All of a sudden, the alarms started going off all over the city. The impersonal female drone of the PA system told us all we needed to know:

"Attention! This is an emergency! Hostile AC approaching! Repeat! Hostile AC approaching! All security details are to report to their assigned defensive positions and subdue the AC intruder!"

The few technicians on duty that day evacuated to a secure bunker beneath the city. My father scooped me up and began to rush me off too. We stopped halfway as my father went into the surveillance room, empty despite the fact that PROGTECH security was supposed to be in there coordinating troop battle strategies, to get a scope of the battle going on outside. It was not a pretty sight at all. The city's army of MT's were getting slaughtered by the solitary AC. It moved so quickly and struck so fast that the surveillance units couldn't get a clear shot of it. My father saw the number of MT's destroyed, the good men flying them massacred, and told himself that he couldn't stand by as his friends and colleagues died. He looked me straight in the eyes and I could see the hate and fear in his eyes. Likewise, he could probably see the scared curiosity in mine. He set me down and put his trembling hands on my shoulders as he swallowed hard and explained, "I have to go and help defend the city..."

I didn't let him finish before I jumped back into his arms and told him he couldn't. I begged and pleaded, saying I didn't want him to die. But just by taking one look and seeing the fearful determination in his stature, I knew it was hopeless. He was going whether I wanted him to or not. I just stepped back and started bawling. He hugged me close and said, "Child you must be stronger than this. If there's one thing I have taught you, only an AC can triumph over another AC, no matter the odds against him." He paused, contemplating the words he just spoke and figuring he could learn a thing or two from his own bravado and recklessness. "I will be back as soon as I drive away the AC. Be brave, and initiate the safety lockdown for this room as soon as I leave. Okay?" I looked up at him with ridiculously watery eyes and nodded, trying to stifle back my tears and follow his directions. With a kiss on my forehead, he ran out of the room back toward the warehouse, to retrieve the newly completed AC. That was the last time I ever saw him in person again. The next time I saw him, it was a few minutes later, getting his badly scrapped AC torn up and slammed around by the still unidentified intruder. Despite the extremely powerful arms of my father's robot, he was still no match for the deadly, consecutive rapid fire hits made by the ruthless intruder's AC. I guess he realized too, when he found himself thrown against one of the residential buildings, right arm and a chunk of his torso missing. Why did that building look so familiar? It was only until the intruder had stopped and I got a real good look at the red and black paint job that I realized the horrible truth. Even as the enemy AC prepped his back mounted grenade launcher, all I could do was watch in horror as he unleashed the enormous ball of fire...

And sit back helplessly as he destroyed my father and my home in a single blast. I could only scream as I watched my only family and friends go down in a flaming mass of scrap metal. I don't remember much afterwards... I think I screamed myself into unconsciousness. When I awakened several hours later, I discovered they had managed to pry me out of the security room and get me to a hospital in the underground shelter. Judging by the looks of horror and sympathy in the eyes of the underground survivors, I knew that I hadn't dreamed the events of the few hours before. It was a real life nightmare of being alone. My mother and father were dead, killed by some chickenshit pilot lookin to make a quick buck. I sat up in the cot they had laid me in and tried to make some sense of the entire situation, but realized that there was only one real truth. I would never see my family again, and it was all thanks to the Ravens. I turned to my right and there, laying atop a small cart next to me was my AC doll. I took it and held it on my lap, and as I did, scenes of my father's utter demise flashed before me, horrible images of destruction and death. With a shout of absolute hate, I slammed it onto the floor, breaking it into several irreparable pieces. Turned out that didn't help much either, as the fragments that lay at my feet only brought up more excrutiating images from the recesses of my mind. From that day foward I cursed all the Ravens. Without them always getting in the way, I might have had a chance at a somewhat normal childhood. But I guess that had been too much to ask for. I swore to myself that I would destroy as many of them as I could, break each pilot to ease my pain... and I knew just the way to do it too. As a matter of fact, my father had inspired me with the idea. I remember his last words so clear I could swear he had told me them only a minute ago...

"Only an AC can triumph over another AC..."  
  
(END CHAPTER ONE)  
  
So what do you think? I plan to continue this one for a very long time, so please R&R! I would appreciate any input to help make my stories better...They are for you, the reader after all...


	2. The Hatchling Part 2

The Hatchling- Part 2  
  
The years that followed the attack on my city were the most prolonged and agonizing experiences. Even from that young age the gears in my mind were meticulously turning, already formulating the ultimate scheme to crush the Ravens. The plan was simple, I would find a way to obtain my own AC, no matter how great the cost of purchasing a unit would be when I got old enough. If I was lucky enough, I could get the financial backing of one of those big time corporations if I proved myself a competent enough operator. The initial unit, the "Default Model" as they call it, would be a piece of shit, but in time I could definitely upgrade it to a fierce piece of combat machinery. Then, with me at the helm of my mighty AC crushing Core, I will unleash hell onto the Raven Fold. Only this will be enough to avenge my family's deaths and ease my suffering...

However, none of this could be accomplished while I was still in the PROGTECH corporation city. After my parents were murdered, I was placed into the care of one of my father's closest friends, a certain Elan Cubis. Cubis was a good hearted man, but due to the many assassination attempts on his life, we both agreed that in the best interests of my safety, he couldn't take me under his wing and guarantee my well being. He had no choice but put me in a group home, which is just a polite way to of saying orphanage. It might have been coincidence, or maybe fate, but it sure was ironic that both our trouble was started with the appearance of the same red and black AC. I learned his name, the name of my tormenter, and I put him on the top of my hit list. Hustler 1, piloting the undefeated Core Nineball. All that have attempted to stand in his way, or even go as far as to challenge him personally in a duel, were met with a crushing defeat, of which few have survived. I planned to change that very soon, but first I had to get out of that hellhole they dared to keep children in. The place was as dank and corrupt as the staff that worked there. Amazing how such a prestigious city treated the disadvantaged and homeless youths that lived there. I literally shared my bed with at least four types of vermin. It wasn't exactly decreasing my disposition. The only thing that got me through those long, sleepless nights was a friend I made while on the lunch line one day.

Waiting to receive our usual portion of liquid crap, he was there. He had made the lewdest comment about the food, which incited something rarely heard in the confines of the group home, laughter. Even from me, probably the most grim, miserable child in that institution. I guess he noticed it too, because he took a particular interest in my squeaky little laugh. Even as the deans dragged him away to be disciplined, we couldn't keep our eyes off of each other. It was love at first sight, so what if we were young? His name was Alex, though he loved to play around with it and call himself Axle, because of his interest in machines. I tried to hang around with Alex every chance I got, and for a little while my life didn't seem so empty and cold. No matter what mood I was in, he could always find a way to put a smile on my face. His predicament was a tenuous one at best; his father had left when he was little to pursue a career as a Raven, never to be seen again. His mother passed on soon after, leaving him with no where to go except straight into this penitentiary for children. I don't know how he did it, but he never seemed to be without a cute lop-sided smirk on his face and a joke on his lips. There were many things I could've learned from this incredibly brave boy, but all I was worried about was getting out of math instruction and for a few minutes forget my past with Alex. That was bliss.

Even on my darkest days when I just couldn't get the horrifying images of my early childhood out of my head, Alex was there to listen with an open mind and comfort me till I felt better. Somehow he could listen to what I said and understood completely, and I loved him for that. There was one thing I couldn't tell him though, for fear of driving him away, and that was what I planned to do to the Ravens when I got old enough. I realized some time later that I should have, maybe we could have stayed together longer. But I was a fool, because it was that reluctance that drove me away.

It was one afternoon, when we were laying out in the sun, well away from the history class we were supposed to be in, I was the foolish one that brought up our plans for the future. Right there he said the most painful words that would stay in my mind for many years to come. Alex told me he wanted to become a Raven, to go and find his father. As I listened on in horror, he told me that unlike his father, he planned to help the less fortunate and always come to the aid of his fellow man. I could feel the lump in the back of my throat growing as I tried not to scream. Alex saw that something was wrong, and asked if I was okay.

"Me?", I replied, "No I- I'm...I don't feel so good. I gotta go!"

I left him there, as I ran back to my room. I buried my face in my pillow and just started to cry, hoping that my muffled cries of agony wouldn't be heard by any of the staff. Why? Why did he have to say that? Didn't he get how much pain those mercenary nightmares had caused us already? No, I guess he couldn't, because I had never fully revealed my past to him. I could only berate myself so much as my tears permeated the fabric on my pillowcase. New pillowcases... Only a minute improvement to the still disgusting environment of the group home. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing else mattered anymore. I realized that I couldn't stay there anymore, I couldn't hurt Alex with my heartless intentions. I was getting out that night. I went to the rest of my classes as usual, silent as death. The same story at dinner. I avoided Alex, I couldn't see him or it might ruin my plan to get escape. I went to bed at the regular time, but sleep was a luxury I couldn't afford at the moment. It was midnight, and I could here the headmistress coming in to check on the girls. She poked her scrawny buzzard neck in, acting as if she actually cared about the children she was appointed to watch. After she left, I threw the covers off, tied them into a bundle with the rest of my few possessions. It hit me at that moment that I had been a real ass to Alex, especially since none of this was his fault. I crept over to the boy's dorm, and snuck in through the door. I tried to remember where he slept... I had been in here once before. Let's just say it wasn't to get homework help from Alex. I found him sleeping, and considered waking him up to apologize. But seeing him sleeping there, so handsome and innocent, I couldn't bear to disturb him. Suddenly he started to toss and turn, obviously in the throes of one of his own nightmares. I bent down, and planted a kiss on his lips, and all of sudden he stopped turning and settled down. That was my last gift to him. I put my bundle on my shoulder and turned to leave, hoping I didn't wake him. I made my way to the headmistress's quarters, and while she slept I helped myself to her personal stash of credits. With the money and my belongings, I left the home, never to return.

As I boarded the skimmer-bus with my ticket in hand, I looked back at Isaac City one last time, swearing I would never come back. I was ushered to my seat and planted myself down heavily, tired from the long trek to the station. I was alone for the second time in my life, but this time it was on my own terms. Good-bye Alex. Maybe some day we will find a way into each other's arms again, but not now. No time to beat myself up about it now, I had more important things to think about now.  
Like how I was going to get my hands on an AC...  
  
(END CHAPTER TWO)  
  
That was a hard chapter to write. Hopefully it's because it's good, and not because I was being lazy ; That will be up to you to decide. Please R&R! Still waiting for a response...  
  
NOTE- If you haven't gotten it by now, I am writing from a female vantage point. No, it's not because there's anything wrong with me, but because I wanted to try something different in my writing. And don't worry... Hopefully future chapters won't be this sappy...

I also apoligize if the story comes out looking like a solid block of letters. That's just something that happens to me when I upload them from my Wordpad Format. I'll try and find a way to fix it, but until then don't let the appearance deter you from enjoying the story.


	3. The Hatchling Part 3

The Hatchling- Part 3  
  
The bus ride was bumpy and the air filtered through the vehicle's ventilation systems was possibly the most noxious I ever had the misfortune of inhaling. I guess I couldn't complain. It was my fault for choosing the crappy charter run, but with the limited amount of cash I had on me I just couldn't splurge on whatever was more convenient or looked better. I had to try and conserve what little I had until I could find a way to earn a living. Some master strategist I was. I could conceive the most fantastic schemes for revenge, but I couldn't figure out a way to get a job and a roof over my head. The job market for thirteen year old girls wasn't too broad at the moment. I accepted the fact that my life was going to get very difficult from that point on, but if that was the price I had to pay for the opportunity to exact my revenge against the Ravens, then so be it.  
The bus stopped and I got off at quite possibly the busiest station in the world. This was the newly established Avalon City, a state dedicated solely to Raven battles and related Arena events. Stepping out of the station, I was amazed to see the multitude of AC's actively roaming the enormous streets of Avalon. Everything from the heaviest humanoid-legged to the sleekest fastest quad leg models going here and there, some being maneuvered swiftly along the city, and some pilots just carousing around the city in their machines, probably looking for a fight or some other way to pay the maintenance for their units. Thankfully, the walkways for civilians was elevated to a height well above the path for the AC's. So many Ravens, so little I could at the moment to pay them back for the many aches and pains they have cost me. Unfortunately I had to devote my attention to more impending matters. like finding a place to live! I had to find a place that would accommodate this pre-teen wreck and not try to rip me off. Yeah right, in this city? It looked like these weren't going to be the best days of my life. For a second I considered hopping back on the skimmer-bus and going back to the group home, back to Alex, but had to painfully dismiss the idea. This was the path I was forging for myself, and I had to stick to it, no matter the cost.  
The sound of someone swearing very loudly behind me snapped me back to reality. I turned to see a rather gruff man in a battered jumpsuit trying to start an obviously dead hover bike. He couldn't refrain from spitting a slew of profanities as he kept attempting in vain to start the faulty machine.  
"Stupid piece of shit!"  
I approached him with my heart set on seeing if I could help the stranger. He saw me standing there looking at him, probably thinking I was just silently mocking him. He replied in kind, "What, you never seen a guy in a jumpsuit before? You attracted to me or something? Piss off kid, I'm not in the mood for any more annoyances."  
Obviously at this point I was pissed off myself. How dare he call me an annoyance? He wanted me gone, fine. But I wasn't going to leave without shutting his ignorant ass up. I stomped forward and brushed past him, getting a vulgar response in the process.  
"Hey! What the f-"  
I had already slid the my micro-driver out of my wrist kit and began to unscrew the beat up side panel to take a look at the battery unit. First I had to look up to see if this moron had just forgotten to refuel the tank, but it was reading full. Guess he wasn't completely brain-dead after all. Looking in, I could've died laughing there, seeing that all his frustration was over an upside-down terminal cable. I switched it around and reattached the panel. Snatching the ignition keys from the now curious bystander, I hopped up and flipped the bike on. A brief catch, and a loud roar from the ion engine hailed the bike's return to life. I looked back towards my previous oppressor with a big smirk on my face, savoring the stupefied look on his face as he looked away, scratching the back of his head and trying to play it off.  
"Well, aren't you the mechanical whiz."  
I jump off the bike and begin to walk away, having proved my point, but he puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me.  
"Wait a second."  
I turn, curious as to what he could have to say to me now. I just hope he's not one of those sick bastards who have an eye for young children. What I got instead, was completely unexpected.  
"Listen, um, I'm sorry for before. Name's Skylar, Ness Skylar, and I guess I owe you one for the bike."  
I stood there impatiently, my feet hurting after the trip from the station and the bundle strapped to my back digging it's thin cord into my shoulder. Also, I still had to find a place to crash and this ignoramus' rambling was beginning to give me one hell of a migraine. I grew tired of him quickly.  
"And."  
"And I was thinking you could probably help me out, girl or not. You see, I head this repair shop, part of the Nerves Concord for Ravens in Av'lon, and I'm desperate for staff with your kinda mechanical expertise. So I was wonderin', what do you know about AC maint'nance ?"  
Was this guy serious? What didn't I know about AC's! It was either a God sent, or just the biggest coincidence in history that this guys idiocy caught my attention. This could be the answer to all my housing and money problems, but I still had my doubts. It sounded to good to be true, there must've been a catch somewhere, so I asked.  
"No catch, just pull your own and keep up your maint'nance quota, and you keep your job. Fair 'nuff?"  
I thought about it, and figured what the hell? If someone was going to screw me over, they might as well do it now and get it over with, so I don't have to deal with them later. But if I was going to work for him, it was going to be on my terms.  
"Fine, but first, I have a few requests; One, you put me up in one of those apartments they rent out to Ravens."  
"I'll try n' find you a place, but rent's gonna come out of your paycheck when I do. Come on, let's go-"  
I hold up my hand to stop him. He was about twice my height, and probably three times my weight, but I wasn't scared to make demands of him.  
"What now?"  
"Second condition", I hold up the keys I still have in my possession, "I'm driving."  
He tried to protest, but when I threaten to toss the keys into the street below where all the AC's were traveling, his demeanor suddenly turned to one of reasoning. Having lost the argument, he sheepishly takes a seat behind, obviously embarrassed to have to take the bitch seat on his own bike to a "little girl". It was pretty obvious that he was pissed by the way he dug his nails into my side to hold on. I could swear his face was glowing red.  
"Shit, let's get this over with already."  
"Oh you want me to go fast? You got it!"  
The engine already purring with the suppressed power of the powerful compressor engine, I kicked the bike into gear just as Ness tried to utter a last, futile protest.  
"No, wait-"  
Too late, I had already ignited the Anti-G jets and we bolted forward in a burst of blue energy. Ness's grip tightened on my waist, holding on for his life as I careened along the semi-populated sidewalk. To tell you the truth, I didn't have the faintest idea of how to handle a hover bike. However, my hands remembered skills long forgotten by my mind, skills of navigational computer deciphering and master control operations. Decrepit techniques from a childhood past, when I still dreamed of becoming a Raven for the good of humanity. Such imaginings wouldn't come so cheap, as I had found out the hard way. For now, the exhilaration from the ride, the wind lashing at my face was a welcome escape from reality. Up ahead was an off ramp to the AC pathways, a flashing sign on the side proclaiming the obvious danger. "Avalon Social Society Will Not Be Held Responsible For AC/Traffic Related Casualties. Enter At Your Own Risk!" Thank you, I think I will. Ness could probably sense what I was thinking, because the frequency of his barely heard screams and warnings increased ten fold. I didn't care, I pressed toward the exit. Coming down hard in a flurry of sparks and flames on the low road, I started veering left and right, almost effortlessly avoiding getting crushed by the multi-ton gargantuan walking over me. I almost sent one of the light-weight models head over heels when I shot through his legs. He would have probably took a shot at me if there weren't regulations in Avalon that prevented Ravens from firing upon pedestrians. I just revved the accelerator and went faster, Ness screaming for dear life behind me. The funny thing was, I was performing all these death-defying traffic stunts, and I didn't even know where the hell I was going. Ness had failed to give me directions earlier, but I didn't care. I couldn't stop now, not when a chance at revenge had been presented so blatantly to me. I was off at mach speed, to my destiny.  
  
(END CHAPTER THREE)  
  
I think I'm finally getting the hang of this. I'm having a lot of fun writing the series, and the positive responses from you, the readers is really helping me along. Thanks for all of you who have R&R'd. More to come. 


	4. The Hatchling Part 4

The Hatchling- Part 4  
  
It would be a fallacy to say that I was completely miserable, now that I had this job at Ness's garage. Actually I was quite ecstatic to be working with actual AC's. I mean, it was something that I really had a working knowledge of, and something I enjoyed doing. Plus, it also gave me a chance to note the structural weaknesses of every mass produced AC part made. I predict in about a year or two I could have the proverbial "Achilles' Heel" of every AC part in my possession, then the real slaughter will begin. Then again, it might be much longer than that if Ness keeps me cooped up in his office filing maintenance reports for the actual mechanics. He had promised me an active position in the shop working on the machines, but I guess all he really needed was a secretary to do all the paperwork he didn't want to, or was too stupid to do on his own. It wasn't right, and I was going to give him hell about it. I managed to catch him on one of his many late lunch breaks, and I confronted him in this little dive he liked to sneak out to in the city. I saw him sitting in a corner and stood in front of him at his table. He looked up at me as if I were a complete stranger who just approached him on the street. When he opened his mouth to inquire, his already diminished vocabulary combined with his tenacious drinking habit made his voice come out as a slurred, almost incomprehensible roar of idiocy.  
".Yes?"  
"This is bullshit Ness!"  
The straight-forwardness of my attack surprised him, even in his stupor. It also turned a few heads at the bar. Honestly, I was surprised at the moment of myself too, but I was seriously pissed and I was going to let him know.  
"Wha-what's da matter?"  
"When I started this job two months ago you told me that I would be down there with the engineers, working on the AC's. Remember that, huh?"  
At this point I think his fleeing state of mind started to return to him, and he seemed remembered who I was. He shifted himself, knocking over a few empties on the table, but still he had no response to offer. I pulled up a chair from the table across from us, invoking a protest from the patron seated there. He looked like a cop, but again I could care less.  
"I didn't accept an offer to be your damn secretary, I came to fix AC's, and that's what I'm going to do. No more shit about waiting for this so called "paperwork" to clear. You either let me get to work or you can kiss my ass good-bye, and I know you don't have anyone else there at the shop that knows more about AC mechanics and physics than me-"  
"Whoa, wait a minute? Keep your voice down will ya, I have dis' pounding headache."  
"It'll get a lot worse if you don't listen to me."  
"Okay, okay, okay!"  
He looked around the place as if he actually gave a damn about the way he looked in front of other people. He turned back to, his arrogance and defiance somehow recharged to answer me back.  
"Look kid, I told you the situation was complicated. They have these kinda labor laws n' such that say I can't let ya do any heavy stuff for about three years-"  
"Three years!"  
I took in what he said carefully, and then realized that Ness never had any intention of me having any contact with the repair team.  
"You son-of-a-bitch. You were never gonna let me anywhere near the shop. Even when I do hit seventeen you'll probably find some excuse to dump my ass back on the street."  
"Hey kid, it's not like that at all."  
He sat silent for a moment, probably thinking about of another way to brush me off. I was right.  
"Listen, give me 'bout another year and I can pro'bly get you workin'. Kay?"  
I refused to answer him, probably because if I opened my mouth to respond to his blatant attempt to give me the cold shoulder, I would have lost control and probably would have been arrested for killing that bastard. Instead, I maintained my solemnness and stood up. Grabbing a half- filled bottle off the table, I lifted it to my lips and guzzled the remainder of the noxious liquid, letting the sting of the alcohol alleviate the frustration and hatred I felt towards that. thing sitting across from me. Another first for me today. Keep this up and I should be a raging alcoholic and fiendish chain smoker before I'm twenty-one. Remembering the cop seated behind us, I was suddenly blessed with another plot for revenge. In my best impersonation of a roaring drunk, I pirouetted toward the door, but not without stopping right behind the policeman and cooing,  
"G'bye uncle Ness! Thanks for the widdle drinky. Tee hee hee!"  
At this point, the now concerned police officer got up to start questioning my new and obviously irresponsible "uncle". It was s glorious sensation having Ness's vulgar shouts of protests follow me out of the restaurant. I knew that stunt would most likely get me fired, but personally, I thought it was worth it. That conniving idiot deserved it for taking advantage of me like that. My head suddenly started to pound with another one of my frequent migraines, probably caused by whatever crap Ness was drinking. Or maybe it was because of Ness being a constant prick. All I knew was that I needed to get back to my place and crash. I managed to catch an "AC taxi ride", i.e. I stood at the edge of the elevated sidewalk and waved a bunch of credits in the air till I caught the attention of an AC traveling the street, who would then, upon payment give me a ride in their unit's left hand. Not the safest method of transportation, but it was faster and to me a helluva lot of fun, and it was also good for the pilot who needed a quick buck. Some Ravens who were between contracts (currently out of work) made their livings wandering the streets collecting fares. I was fortunate enough to flag down a quad-leg model, whose exceptional speed ratings and ability to effortlessly glide over even the roughest terrain insured that I got a peaceful ride. That is, provided I ignore the other sounds of the bustling city around me, which wasn't too hard in the state of mental exhaustion I was experiencing right now. I swear I fell asleep in the robot's cold and metallic, and yet somehow gentle and grip, my head propped against the inside of its thumb as it carried me home.  
It was almost poetic in the way I appeared; a delicate little nothing in the hands of this towering gargantuan, who could crush me so easily, but was piloted by a decent person who cared enough to see me home safely. Even if it was just for the money, it was a nice thing to do. I was awakened a few minutes later, by the seemingly tender nudge of the AC's other hand. I looked to see that, to my amazement, the pilot had taken the effort and the inconvenience of putting down his right arm weapon and wake me up in a more placid manner. Obviously this was a big risk should another pilot come along and decide to start trouble, but he still did it anyway. I was in awe at this Raven's degree of compassion as he was setting me down on the platform in front of my apartment complex. I dusted myself off and was about to take out some money to pay this generous pilot, but he made the AC hold up it's right hand to signal he didn't want anything, thus adding to his degree of benevolence. His voice came over the unit's PA system in a soft and actually quite attractive tone as not to startle me,  
"No, I can't."  
"Huh? Why not?"  
"Well", he paused to think about it, and then he sarcastically responded, "Because I only take money from inept corporate executives, who can't solve their own problems and have to hire people like me out to do their dirty work."  
I laughed, but then I got curious about what the pilot's true intentions were behind giving me a lift.  
"If you didn't want my money, then why did you even bother to pick me up?"  
"Do you always question those who do favors for you?"  
"It's slowly become apparent to me that I have to nowadays."  
The mystery pilot leaned over to reclaim his weapon, a standard laser rifle from the looks of it, and reattached it to the AC's right hand, before turning back to respond.  
"That's a shame that you have to doubt the true intentions of those who wish to help you. I don't know. Maybe. Maybe I did it because it was the right thing to do."  
I stood there, reveling from my own snobbish treatment to the kind- hearted pilot as the pilot turned his unit around to leave.  
"Wait, I'm sorry! I. I don't even your know your name!"  
He turned his head back towards me, holding his weapon at his shoulder.  
"They like to call me Strife, and I don't mind it either. I'll see you around."  
He walked down the street and with a final wave from his robot, disappeared around the corner. I would see him again, but not for a few years. That encounter with the compassionate Strife got me thinking, that maybe not all the Ravens were as diabolical and evil as the one who attacked PROGTECH city all those many years ago. However, I knew that such Ravens still existed out there. As long as they were still living and taking innocent lives, I was not going to stop in my quest. Unfortunatley, if that meant that I would have to go throught he likes of Strife to do so, then so be it.  
  
(END CHAPTER FOUR)  
  
I think this is my favorite chapter so far. I had a lot of fun/trouble writing it, I just wish people would R&R more. Haven't gotton a response since the first chapter, and would appreciate a few more responses, good or bad. Oh well. 


	5. The Hatchling Part 5

The Hatchling- Part 5  
  
I sat clearing out my locker with a cloud of anxiety and depression hanging over me. I wonder if this is how everyone feels when they get fired. I really hope I'm not alone in this too. Anyway, as I predicted my job status was promptly terminated after that little stunt I pulled in the restaurant the other day. It would probably have come sooner, but Ness had spent the night in an Avalon lockup for resisting arrest and contributing to the degeneration of a minor. A sleepless night and a stiff fine later, Ness phoned the supervisor at the shop and demanded he have my ass thrown out of there immediately. So now, two months after arriving in Avalon, I was jobless and soon to be homeless once again. If I couldn't get a job as a waitress or something soon, I'd have to give up my "spacious" studio flat too. Whatever force that controls my fate and governs my actions seems to have a twisted sense of humor, because it always leads me down the dead end paths.  
It was when I had all my stuff packed and I was ready to leave the shop for good that the sound of automatic fire ripped through the entire shop. Had one of the mechanics accidentally switched one of the robots into Combat Mode, or was it intentional? I feared the worst as I peeked out the locker room window onto the floor below. Standing amongst smoldering repair equipment and the panic-stricken employees were two very large and very evil looking AC's. One of them was heavy humanoid base, and had enough defense and firepower between them to decimate the entire shop. They seemed to be rounding up all the workers, at gunpoint, into a far corner, but I couldn't figure out what their plans were. I did know that one, they didn't know that I was up here; and two, I could contact the cops from Ness's office without them noticing. I had to get there fast though, before these pricks did something to harm the workers. I considered grabbing a small surveillance unit to keep an eye on the hostiles, but figured they had already been smart enough to shoot out the cameras already.  
I dashed out just as one of the punks unloaded a grenade round into the locker room, destroying it completely, but I was still thrown back by the tremendous force of the blast. I picked myself up, pulling small shards of glass and metal out of my side. It stung like all hell, but I had no time to cry out in pain. It was obvious these assholes would kill without batting an eye. I pressed on to the foreman's office as fast as could, extremely grateful that the door had been left unlocked. Meanwhile outside, the thugs were listing their demands.  
"Listen up you pathetic little rats! Do what we say, and just maybe you'll leave this place in something a little more roomier than a body bag. Failure to comply."  
He cocked his weapon, a very deadly right-arm-mounted grenade launcher, and pointed it at the center of the crowd. So this was the asshole that was shooting the place up. Had to be, the other one was decked out with everything missile based. Typical coward design if you ask, long- range projectiles combined with some of the speedier reverse-joint legs, you're obviously doing everything to keep from coming face to face with opponent. But this other one. he was just made to decimate, sporting a grenade launcher on his right arm, heavy blade on his left, and toting a chain gun and heavy- missile launcher on his shoulders. Even if I did get the cops here, there's no guarantee that they could get these guys under control. Still, I had to try, for the sake of those workers being held hostage downstairs. I tried to snag a connection to the police network by forcing a signal through a bunch of other contacts. After about a minute I attracted the attention of some officer probably wondering why I was bumping a bunch of people offline. I could have kissed the videophone monitor when the cop's face came into focus and he demanded to know what I was trying to do.  
"Listen to me! You have to get over here to the AC garage in. damnit which sector is this?!"  
"We read your broadcast out of Sector I-23. State your name and why you're hacking through the security network!"  
"Forget that, I have a huge problem here! Two AC's have stormed the shop and taken the workers hostage. One of them is this close to blasting everyone to hell with a grenade launcher, and the other-"  
"Just hold on a minute! First tell me who you are and then we can try and figure out what's going on."  
"Are you deaf or something?! Didn't I just tell you that the shop is being ripped off?! People are gonna die and all you beurocratic assholes are concerned about is getting my personal information!"  
"Now listen you little brat, I'm beginning to think that you're just yanking my chain over here, phoning in fake distress calls!"  
If I could thrust my hands into that monitor and wrap my hands around this idiot's throat, I would. How dare he call me a liar! I shuddered for a second, frustrated out of my mind and just wanting this guy to here me out. I guess he needed some proof...  
"You think I'm lying, huh prick? I'll show you-"  
I picked up the whole phone setup and brought it to the window so that this genius could see I was being straight with him.  
"See-"  
Just as I too looked out to survey the lower level, I could already see the ten or so missiles streaking towards me. I dropped the phone and ran as fast as my legs could carry me out of the office, hopping clean over Ness's desk to get out the door and into the safer hallway. I was trying to get the door closed and contain the blast when the missiles connected. The accumulated blasts tore the office to pieces and sent me soaring backwards, along with the door. I tried sitting up, only to have something come flying at my face and slice me across the eye. I was flung back onto the floor, clutching my face and shrieking in pain, pent up tears mixing with the streaming blood from my wound. Those bastards! They were going to pay for doing this to me. Ignorant asshole cops! It seemed that, like every other aspect of me life, if I needed something done, I'd have to do it myself. How though, can I take care of those two myself when I can't even get a call out to the police? It was then, that the terrorists provided me with the means to take them out. Maybe if they had learned to privately broadcast communications amongst themselves they would probably still be alive today. Brings to mind an old Chinese proverb.  
Greed will consume us all.  
"Well Javelin, whatever you picked up on your bio-sensor has to be dead meat now."  
"Hang on a sec Crash. Still picking up a faint signal-"  
"Probably a smoldering corpse, come on! Stick to the plan!"  
"Right, right. Trash U-Weapon and blow this joint."  
"Literally."  
The missile-based one, Javelin, started toward the storage houses, while the other one, Crash, stayed behind to watch the hostages, both of them laughing over their PA systems. So that was it? All this incessant destruction just to get at somebody's AC? Now these guys were really gonna get it. I knew that there was only one AC in storage pending return to the owner. It was fully stocked and reloaded according to the completion reports posted on the shop level. If I could get there before they did, I could probably be able to take them both out. The blood stopped flowing that much, so I got up and again was on the run, but this time to the furthest storage house and salvation. I tore off a sleeve of my shirt and tried to wipe some of the blood away, biding the sting from the dirty fabric making contact from my open wound. I had to get the end of the storage houses before this other one finished his search.  
I started off so fast that I almost ran past the hover-bike that was parked in the hallway. Ness's hover-bike. This was a first, something good happening to me without any strings attached. Of course the keys were missing, but I really didn't need them. Touch this wire to that, twist it together and I'm off. Now if piloting this thing out on an AC dominated street wasn't hazardous enough, imagine trying to maneuver this thing in a cramped passageway with random boxes and parts lying all over the place. One wrong move and that would have been the end of my story. No, not just yet. still had a lot of things to do before I went down. I managed to arrive a few hundred yards ahead of the other AC, still stupid enough to be searching every house one at a time. I jumped off, letting Ness's bike slam into the wall with a resounding and very satisfying crunch. It took a short eternity for me to remember the right pass code to the storage house. Damn these ever changing security codes! Finally finding the right one, I stormed onto the catwalk above the robot. The fact that it was pitch-black inside the storage house deter me from running to find the lift, despite the obvious danger of falling hundreds of feet down to the floor below.  
I found the lift rather easily in the dark, and punching the cockpit level button I leaned against the side of the lift, exhausted and still in pain from my injuries. This was one of the biggest long shots in history, but hey, what have I got to lose? I mean, I was homeless, unemployed, I had no family waiting for me. After that last thought, visions of my father's final flight flashed through my mind. I had been able to repress those images for a while now, but now they came flooding back in a torrent of misery and anguish. Then I realized why. this was the same scenario my father had put himself into before he died. The need to help his fellow man, the inexperience and recklessness that led him to his untimely demise. Was this going to be a repeat of what happened seven years ago? No, it can't be. I won't allow it! Where my dad fell, I will soar. Those people aren't going to die, and neither am I. The lift has stopped. In front of me will either be the gate heart of my savior, or the path way to certain death. I had already made my decision. I'm going to step into that AC and fly.  
One way or another.  
  
(END CHAPTER FIVE)  
  
Whew, that one took me a while ^ ^;. Sorry to leave you in suspense, but I want to try to keep the chapters short and numerous. Anyway, the cliffhanger ending is my way to make sure you keep coming back to read. And don't forget to review! 


	6. The Hatchling Part 6

The Hatchling- Part 6  
  
Stepping into the cockpit of an AC for the first time was a terrifying and yet uplifting experience. From this small, cramped compartment, filled with its dozens of complicated panels, switches and displays, it feels as if the world is at your very fingertips. When you're seated in that chair, commanding this monolith of artillery and metal, you possess the power preserve life.or to extinguish it in a heartbeat. Well, the former is my choice for tonight. I just hope that not much as changed configuration-wise in the cockpit setup since the days of my reading AC manuals when I was smaller. If so, this is definitely going to be a suicide mission. I wouldn't know until I sat down in that chair and started this thing up.  
I plopped myself into the worn seat and tried my hardest from the recesses of my memory to remember the Start-Up procedure. The not-so- distant sound of the storage house a few hundred yards away was prerogative enough to speed it up a little. The instantaneous catch and resonate hum of the generator meant that I had successfully started the damn robot. That was the easy part. Now I had to disable the movement locks and initiate the weapon system. The locks were easy, those I disabled on a daily basis when I was put in charge of returning the AC's to their owners. The guns were another story. I would have t cycle through the available parts and equip them one-by-one. All of this of course, after I had checked out and cleared the physical condition of the unit itself. I realized now that prepping an AC for combat was not a rapid operation. The increasing loudness of the swishing of storage doors opening made me wish it was. While I was panicking, waiting for the visual to be ready I noticed the old photo taped to the side of the display panel. It was a beautiful shot, of an even prettier woman with jet-black hair, apparently caught off guard and with a look of glee on her face. Nice to see this pilot had found love. I had no time for such an extravagance. Even though it would be nice to see a special someone again.  
A beep indicated that the visual of the AC was ready for inspection. The 3D image flickered on. and you couldn't believe the mixed reaction I felt when the all too familiar quad-leg unit appeared on the screen, followed by the automated text message:  
.WELCOME BACK STRIFE.  
Talk about de javu! Now I had an idea of what I could probably do. At that moment, something weird happened. The weapon system started to configure itself, the computer assigning the all the weapons on its own. I know I didn't touch a thing in that respect, but before I knew it, I had this strange laser rifle in my right arm, a heavy laser blade in my left, and this really big dual-caliber laser cannon on my back. The mechanical restraints binding the AC to the shop's storage system depressurized with a rush of steam and smoke, and my unit was free to do whatever I wanted it to do. Various statistics flooded my screen, detailing the proper names of my weapon assortment and data regarding my unit's efficiency and overall rating. The right arm seemingly jumped up, armed and ready to rain down searing bursts of light on my enemies, with the convenient automated voice response:  
.MAIN SYSTEM. ENGAGING COMBAT MODE.  
Great, I had gotten this bad boy ready to scrap, now to put it to work. I moved the accelerator forward, letting the AC glide noiselessly and effortlessly toward the large doors, one hand controlling the movement, the other nervously gripping the weapon control stick. Now seems a good enough time to clarify that piloting an AC is not as easy as it sounds. The setup was made to be as basic and simple to be handled by a lone operator, yet it can still be hell to the inexperienced pilot. myself included. There are levers for both hands: the right to aim and fire all the weapons, even though most targeting is done through the Fire Control System. The left handle controls movement and the laser blade/shield. Also on the left side of the pilot are the controls for the Over Boost and Extension functions. At the pilot's feet are pedals to control the multi-directional rocket boosters that grant the AC flight and dash abilities, the duration pending the output of the AC's generator unit. Combined with easy to read computer layouts and this particular unit's great generator and weapons, and I'm ready to rock.  
And just in time, because just as I gathered the courage to open that door and face my those two monsters outside it split open, and I was face to face with Javelin, the missile base. At first he just stood there, unaware of what to do since the U-Weapon wasn't in holding restraints and standing right in front of him. I knew what I was gonna do though. I switched functions to my laser cannon and aimed square for his chest. oh, and then I switched on my enemy broadcast signal, just as an afterthought. Javelin got the hint when he saw the glowing dual cannons and could finally target me, to figure that maybe he couldn't handle this on his own.  
"Crash."  
That was the last thing he said before I blew the middle of his core out with my cannon. His AC shuddered and then fell , minus its pilot and essential internal parts. It was weird, how I had just taken this pilot's life. ended it abruptly with a blast of light. and yet I felt no regret whatsoever. I guess from the cockpit of an AC you get a new, almost apathetic outlook on casualties during combat. Or maybe it was just that I was so far beyond remorse that I really didn't care what happened to people who got in my way anymore. In any case, I didn't have time to ponder the nature of my killing Javelin, because just as he fell, Crash came around the turn to investigate his partner's call. His reaction must have been mixed, seeing the seemingly unoccupied AC of his enemy Strife standing over the smoldering unit of his friend. He rubbed two brain cells together to figure out that maybe there was somebody inside the AC that was waiting to do the same to him. Too bad he didn't know who.  
"STRIFE!"  
He started down the corridor in a berserker fury you can only read about in ancient Norse myths. With boosters burning brightly, he fired erratically at me with the grenade launcher, thankfully missing every time. It gave me just enough time to boost back into U-Weapon's storage room and let the door close. I couldn't close the door from here, but I bet if I did Crash would blast it open anyway. Man, this guy's gonna tear me up if I try to engage him at melee range. I'd have to try and outsmart him, and the height of the storage house gave me a great idea. I'd only have one shot at it. oh please let this AC have a good generator.  
Crash somehow managed to ram the doors open with an Over Boost- assisted shoulder charge. He strutted in, grenade launcher first. Perfect. I took aim and shot the couplings that connected the weapon to his arm, successfully sending it smoking to the ground. Crash looked at his bare arm, and then looked up to where the shot came from. That was the cue to cut my boosters keeping me suspended over his head. I landed hard on his shoulders, the strain of the added weight on Crash's unit's legs could be heard from my cockpit. While he was struggling to throw me off, I was pelting him with blasts from my laser rifle, but because he had a heavyweight core and head it wasn't doing much in the ways of piercing and damaging his unit. It only helped to increase his fury, enabling him to throw me off his shoulders.  
I landed with a sharp crunch, which I painfully realized was my back cannons. So much for Plan B. I tried to lift my rifle to pop off a few more rounds, but Crash put his monstrous foot on my right arm. I looked up to face my attacker, and what I saw scared the hell out of me. The light from the opening hit his AC at such an angle the outline of it resembled a demon from your darkest nightmares. The fact that his optical sensor was glowing bright red wasn't helping my perception either. He just stood over me, almost as if he were glaring through his AC. He wanted me dead, and from where I lie there was no stopping him. These quad legs kept me from getting up with him pinning me down like that. His AC was shooting sparks from all his major joints, meaning he didn't have long before it completely broke down from the abrupt weight increase from before. Of course, he was going to make sure I was dead before that happened.  
"So it's come down to this Strife."  
I kept silent while I tried to figure out a way out of this, which was kind of hard considering how much I was panicking. You can picture how scared I was a minute before, but you couldn't begin to imagine the fear I felt with what he did next.  
"Just you. me. and a large missile."  
He switched to his heavy missile launcher and prepared to fire. Now I know he'd lost it! They launcher was appropriately nicknamed "The Nuke", because of it's ability to vaporize everything within it enormous blast radius. He knew he wasn't leaving this place with his AC, so he was gonna destroy both of us. The situation seemed that much more bleak, now that I was dealing with a suicidal maniac. I had to stop him, but how? I only had my blade left to work with, and that would do squat against his heavily armored body. but those joints looked pretty weak.  
"Ha, ha, ha! How does it feel Strife? How does it feel to be the one on the floor while your opponent stands over your wrecked unit, huh? This time, I've won! I'm the winner! And trust me, there will be no rematches!"  
I struggled to tilt my torso to the right, while Crash gloated over my fallen machine.  
"What's the matter Strife? No sarcastic comebacks now, eh? Don't even try to get away, you're through you bastard!"  
"Actually", I snapped before jabbing my blade into his pelvic joint, completely severing his right leg from his lower half, "I was just giving myself space to pull me arm back!"  
He began to fall backwards while I used my boosters to jet out from underneath him. Now it was his turn to lie helpless while I stood over him. I lifted myself up using as leverage. Then I scooted over to where Crash was thrashing fruitlessly thrashing on the ground. He stopped when I pointed my rifle at his AC's head. He looked up at me, such a pathetic sight: the mighty Crash looking up at the unit he was torturing a minute, expecting sympathy. Not a chance in hell.  
"You. You're not Strife. Who are you?"  
"That should be the least of your worries asshole. You know, I could've cared less about you're guy's beef with Strife. You can all rot! But when you pointed your gun at that crowd out there, you sealed you're fate."  
I used my blade to rip open a shallow hole in his core. Not deep enough to kill him. yet, just large enough so that the tip of my gun fit in. I jabbed it in, poised to fire.  
"Any last words, prick?"  
"Yeah", he snarled as he tried to bring his blade around to slice me, "Die, bitch!"  
Too slow. I was already unloading the rest of my rifle into his core. I didn't stop until I realized I was scorching the floor underneath his AC. I pulled my rifle out and examined the great, smoldering hole I had made, half satisfied at my work, half appalled at how this conflict had climaxed and concluded. I dropped the rifle and dropped back into my seat, sweating and crying from the exhaustion of my first battle. But I had done it. I had proved to myself that I could take lives with impunity should the need arise. With this trial of blood and metal behind me, I had shown that I was ready to begin my penance trip. Atonement for my family's death, and closure for myself. It won't be long now.  
  
* * *  
The police came, the usual questions of who, what and why jumping to and from every person present at the time of the "incident". Most of these inquisitions kept coming back to me, but I was able to abruptly end most of the more trying lines of questioning by claiming I was "too tired" or "in too much pain right now". Of course, then I had to find an excuse to get out of being carted off in an ambulance. I admit that the attention I was receiving was pretty exciting, but all I really wanted to do was get home, to rest and to think of where I could go next. Plus I was beginning to realize that the side of my face was killing me. Then the press came, no doubt they'd gotten wind of how a young woman had saved this repair shop and were here for an exclusive. Man, if they managed to get a shot of me, it was game over. Someone from the old home would be bound to recognize me, then I'd be on a police escorted transport back to that hellhole in no time. I had to get away, but the cops were blocking all the ways out. This can't be the end already!  
Then he came. Old man clad in a moderately expensive suit. What caught my attention was the way he commanded the police to kick the media out. He wasted no time in identifying and me amidst the mass of workers and policemen.  
"So you must be the child that took care of those cretins-"  
"I'm not a child."  
I composed myself to respond to this guy a little nicer when I talked. Kinda hard when you're as exhausted as I was then.  
"What do you want?"  
"Frankly my dear, I want you. Well you're skills to be exact. What you did tonight was nothing short of extraordinary, and I'd like to help you utilize your talents further."  
"I'm listening."  
"Here's the deal. I'm a representative of a budding technology corporation who'd love to get conjure up some good publicity to attract sponsors and drum up some sales. Have you heard of the Kisaragi corporation?"  
"Sure, I see some prototype parts of theirs roll threw here sometimes, but what's this got to do with me?"  
"I'm well aware that you are not a registered Raven and have no right to be operating an AC in the first place given your age, correct?"  
"Well, the last time I checked, the legal age for an operator's license was eighteen."  
"I think Kisaragi can find a way to make an exception in your case, pending you can do something for us in return. Interested?"  
"Am I?!"  
I caught myself from getting too excited. There was a catch, but it had to be worth it for the right to own an AC. What the hell..  
"All right, I'm in. What do I need to do?"  
"We can hammer out the details back at company HQ. There's a limo out back."  
I reluctantly followed, and indeed he was able to get us past the cops and out the back way. We were walking towards the indicated limo when I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. I turned slowly to look, expecting some pedophile type or worse, a reporter, but instead I saw this kind-faced guy in an AC jumpsuit. The suit noticed and began to protest, but this stranger put up a hand to silence him. I nodded at him saying it was okay, curious as to what this guy wanted. His voice came out soft, but rough, as if it had been made difficult for him to be courteous.  
"Thanks for looking out for those people. and my AC."  
So, this was the infamous Strife! I could've punched him for all the shit he put me through tonight, but I was just glad I was able to see him, in person, again.  
"Is there anything that I can do that would be able to show my gratitude?"  
"If you mean repaying me, just. go home. I think that there's someone there that misses you.", I replied, remembering the photo in the cockpit. I left him with a smirk on his face, and headed back towards the old man waiting at the limo. Sayonara Strife! I was going to go and carve out my own path in life. May you never be the one in my line of fire when I get there.  
  
(END CHAPTER SIX)  
  
That. was very. difficult. and time consuming. but extremely fun. This starts a new chapter in the life of my Hatchling, so I hope for your continued viewing. More to come. 


	7. The Hatchling Part 7

The Hatchling- Part 7  
  
"We're nearly there. I'll go over the mission one more time."  
  
I sat in my AC, feeling neither excited nor nervous. Why should I be? I had trained two years for this day. Two long, uneventful years filled with AC mechanical and operational training, special combat instruction and virtual simulations, and mostly sleepless nights. I even managed to get in some regular high school too. You're probably confused, so I'll backtrack a bit:  
After my little skirmish in the shop and my chance encounter with Strife, I was whisked away to the nearest airport and flown first class to the secluded headquarters of the Kisaragi corporation. There, I met up with the president of Kisaragi, and his V.P., the suit who brought me here in the first place, explained my accomplishments in Avalon, greatly exaggerating the details. I considered stopping him, but realized that it was in my favor anyway, so I let him lie for me. The president listened with great intrigue, and jumped at the chance to sponsor a pilot with my potential. But the disheartened look in his face when he learned my age was enough to make me cry. Was this whole trip for nothing? I didn't want it, and apparently neither did the president. After a few minutes, he snapped his fingers and beamed, as if he'd just come up with the most clever idea in history. Well, I thought it was anyway. He explained and I painstakingly agreed that fourteen was too young for me to be a legal AC pilot. So we made a compromise: if I went through intensive training till I was sixteen and promised to do run exclusive contracts for Kisaragi, then he could probably pull some strings and get me a license, two years under the legal age of eighteen. Compared to Ness's old deal of not even being able to touch an AC till I was seventeen, this was pretty sweet. If all I had to give was two years of my life in order to own an AC of my very own, then so be it.  
So here I was, sixteen years old and in my AC. Barely old enough to drive a car, yet here I am preparing to head into live combat, but like I said before, I'm not the least bit worried. I had memorized the basic layout of the initiation exam by heart, but figured that listening to my proctor one more time couldn't hurt. It was old hat, go through the city, eliminating all MT's that had entered the region, blah, blah, blah. I looked over at the other AC standing ahead of me, wondering how that pilot must be feeling right now. Was he feeling scared and skeptical of how they would perform tonight? Or were they like me, feeling nothing and thinking of nothing now except for the task at hand? I was taken aback by that last thought, wondering, have I lost all sensations of fear and doubt because of what I've been through? The sudden shuddering of our transport as it prepared to decent knocked me out of my train of thought. The cargo doors opened to the artificial cityscape below us, the perfect model to simulate fast-paced urban combat.  
Personally, I was a quite annoyed that the popular setting that they used to get pilots accustomed to the intricacies of mechanized combat was a place that could easily emulate a place where people live and work. Was this how they drilled the cold, calculating mindset of a master Raven into new pilots, so that engaging an enemy in surroundings such as this, where the lives of many innocent civilians hang in the balance, will be like second nature to impressionable new recruits? My hand clenched the movement stick tightly as I tried to maintain my cool that I had trained so long to gain at times like this. My time would come.  
Showtime.  
My partner filed out first and I followed a few seconds later, giving each of us a comfortable buffer to work. As we exited, our proctor let us off with a little warning:  
  
"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Don't blow it."  
  
I landed relatively smoothly, with an MT welcome party waiting to blast us to pieces. Yeah right! These unmanned test units were so poorly armored, and their semi-automatic rifles were just as weak as the units that tote them. I targeted the first MT in front of me and tried to let loose with my initial-equip rifle they gave me, but it was only a moderate improvement over what the MT's were packing. About fifteen shots and some smooth footwork later, I was rewarded with the resonating explosion of the MT. One down, about seven more to go. If the rest of the test is this easy, this isn't going to be any fun at all.  
Movement on my radar! An MT was rounding the corner behind me, trying to sneak up on me? Fat chance! I boosted forward while turning around and switched to my rocket launcher. Also initial-equip but hey, it's all I have to work with right now. It takes three missiles to make sure the MT is indeed destroyed. I don't have time to celebrate, to my right another MT was hitting me with his rifle. I ran behind a building to get cover, trying to figure out how to approach this one without taking too much damage. The small square shape of the building gave me a good idea. Radar showed that the MT was coming down the street to investigate. I quickly used my boosters to dash around the building and came up behind it. Before it could turn and react, I slashed it with my laser blade. One slash to topple the unit's top half and gun, one more to send the MT ablaze and falling backwards. Boom! Piece of cake.  
It was after I had destroyed my fourth MT that the transports came. According to the proctor, they were carrying enemy reinforcements. Now why would unmanned test units have backup flown in?  
  
"This isn't part of the scheduled test. Destroy them anyway."  
  
Just what I need, more things trying to kill me tonight. I rushed to find my partner, because I didn't know what to expect. I found him under an overpass, tearing the shit out of an MT that was already smoldering with his blade, as if he believed it would get back up again. He saw me and stopped, having had enough fun with his MT. He pointed up to the sky at the passing transport ships, and I nodded my AC's head in agreement about the reinforcements. They landed a few seconds later, three burly, heavily armored MT's packing enormous metal shields and what looked like compact bazookas. These guys were not to be taken lightly, but my partner obviously didn't care. He already had his blade out and was charging forward to attack them head on. He had to learn the hard way as a trio of bazooka rounds rained down on him, the first severing his left arm at the elbow, disabling his initial plan of attack. He was lucky that he was able to avoid the other two, now a little wiser about these new opponents of ours. We both retreated behind a nearby building, now a little worried about what we should do next. You could tell my partner was crushed over the loss of his blade, the way he seemingly held the crackling stub with his other arm. It was as if he had lost his only means of attack, oblivious to the fact that he still had his rifle and missiles. I snapped him out of it by taking off my headset and jamming the microphone into the speaker. The feedback was so loud it caused my partner's AC to twitch a little. He turned his robot to face me, not the least bit happy about what I just did to him.  
"Why the f-"  
"Save it! I'll get you another blade, just snap out of it! We-"  
I fell silent when I heard the sound of slowly advancing feet. I turned back to my partner. I had just remembered something about these seemingly invincible MT's. Their fronts were extremely well guarded, but at the cost of a pathetically weak backside. If I could just get behind them.  
"Listen, I need a distraction."  
"What?"  
"I need you to give them something to shoot at. Just keep running back and forth between here and that building", indicating the one across the street from us.  
"What are you gonna do?"  
"I'm gonna come up behind them and take care of them."  
He looked towards the other building considering it. He turned and prepared to dash, signaling his agreement. He cocked his head to the side and gave me a warning, stern and cold as ice.  
"Don't screw up, or I'll waste you myself. I don't want to be known as the trainee who was turned into fodder on the last part of my exam."  
"Right."  
I dashed around to the other side of the building and got into position. Turning the corner, I ran smack into one of the MT's as he was trying to flank us. I panicked and just fired away at his head with my rifle. Some hit, but then he put up his shield to block. Before he could get a shot off, I flexed and jumped straight over him. Landing hard behind him, I wheeled and slashed him, making a deep incision right about where the MT's cockpit was located. It staggered a few steps before falling to one knee, smoking and shooting sparks everywhere. I looked at my radar and saw that the MT's were doubling back to my location. I jammed my headset back on and called for my diversion.  
"Now, damnit now!"  
On cue he jumped out and popped off a few rounds at the MT's. When they turned to fire back on him, that was the signal for me to start. I punched the Over Boost and jumped out from the building. This was the first time I would ever use it, and no amount of training can emulate the sudden rush and weightless sensation of going speeds in excess of five hundred miles per hour. You just have to go with it, and pray that you don't overshoot you target, or you may find yourself stuck right in their crosshairs. Right now, was going straight for the second MT. In a flash of blue light, I was a blur, the largest, most deadly bullet in this battle. I was upon it in seconds, he never even saw me before I slashed him. Apparently my decoy was working wonders, but he couldn't keep the MT's partner from noticing his partner go sprawling forward dead. He turned and would have caught me, but I was faster. I dropped my rifle, empty from my previous encounters, and grabbed the MT's arms. With an otherworldly use of force, I turned the MT around and held his arms behind his back, almost ripping them off. I adjusted it to face my partner, who was waiting with his rifle.  
"Do it!"  
Needing no further invitation, he let loose, pelting the now defenseless MT with an onslaught of heated rifle rounds. I held the thrashing AC there until I could feel the explosions jar my unit, and then I I released, letting the very dead MT fall with a satisfying crunch to the ground. I sat back in my seat, wiping off the sweat that had collected on my brow. If you think that operating an AC isn't as physically demanding as it is mentally, you're dead wrong. I was beat. Thankfully, the proctor picked this time to end the test.  
  
"All targets destroyed. You both did well."  
  
"Welcome to the ranks of an elite few. Ravens"  
  
* * *  
  
We stood in the debriefing room of the Global Cortex Office of AC/MT Registration, awaiting the scores for our exam. We stood silent for a few minutes before he turned and with much difficulty, thanked me for helping him come out of that test alive. Nice to hear him talk after all this time. You should have seen the look on the other pilot's face when he saw he had been fighting alongside a girl two years longer than him. He wouldn't give me his real name, but gave me his registration alias, Remi-Roth. He was cute, tan skin. maybe Spanish? He was a little taller than me, but then again I'm short. Dark brown hair, a cute round face, and glasses that helped bring attention to these gorgeous black-brown eyes. He would be a definite chick magnet if it wasn't for his demeanor. He came off as frigid, like someone with a dark ulterior motive waiting to be fulfilled, kinda like me I guess. Except that I wasn't consumed by the need to avenge my family's death, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't hold priority in my mind. I wonder what Roth's story was.  
The director's door opened and we were both called in. We stepped into an elaborate office decked out in video monitors and recorders that were playing and replaying sequences from our battle. In the middle of the room was a man in a dark suit with even darker hair to match, seated at a desk, flanked by another man in an AC jumpsuit. possibly our proctor, and a woman in a short dress suit taking notes on a clipboard. We strode over to the desk confident as hell, wondering what was next. From across the table slid two electronic identification cards, our Raven and Arena registration cards. Success!  
"I must admit that that was the most entertaining performance we've seen at quite some time here at the G.C.", the suit declared. "Keep up that mastery of combat during you're time as Ravens and we could have a new pair of Aces. Remi-Roth, you did extremely well with a score of 913. Next time however, try to think ahead before you launch yourself into thick concentrations of enemy forces; a laser blade can only do so much for you. As for. I'm sorry, we don't have an Arena alias for you yet, Miss.  
I had been thinking about what to call myself for a while now. It needed something that would reflect my plight, but that would also make other pilots think twice before messing with me. Suddenly it hit me.  
"Scarred," I replied. "I am Scarred."  
"Well Scarred," he continued, " I am pleased to announce your perfect score of 1000. Congratulations."  
His voice was devoid of all enthusiasm, but that didn't help stop the spread of the huge smirk across my face. Roth gave me a bewildered sideways look as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. I guess it must be embarrassing to be put in your place by someone younger than you. It was hate at first site, an instant rivalry. Good, it would be a interesting twist to my journey. The suit continued:  
"I wish you both the best of luck. Never hesitate to spread your wings to fight for what you believe."  
Our proctor stepped forward to put his word in.  
"Continue developing your skills, and maybe one day I'll meet you two at the top."  
"Forgive Ace. He's been so long without a decent fight he's become a bit restless."  
So, our proctor was the current Arena champion, Ace. It figures that someone of his standing would take the time to oversee a training exam. He wanted to scout raw potential for future challenges. I promised myself that I wouldn't disappoint him. Now it was the woman's turn to say her piece. She turned from the video screens with a look of excited admiration, obviously pleased to know the likes of us.  
"My name is Laine Meyers, and I will be acting as your G.C. contact. Judging by this exemplary performance, it will be a pleasure to be working with the both of you."  
"Now go forth, and make yourselves known to the world as Ravens."  
And with that the suit sent us both off. I still couldn't believe that I had finally become a Raven and gotten a perfect score! I'm sure that if my dad was alive today that he would be so proud of me. Except he was dead, and that is why I'm here, to make sure that no more murderous bastards like Nineball ever live to wreak havoc upon this world ever again. Now that I had the means, it was up to me to fulfill my revenge.  
  
(END CHAPTER SEVEN)  
  
Hopefully, this chapter was able to satisfy the many qualms brought up by my readers, namely age. The only thing that is still out of synch is the timeline. I had never realized the time difference between the three main titles before I set this story in motion, which begins in the Master of Arena timeline and continues on through Armored Core 3. If you can bear with me a little, I'm assure that I can keep a great story going. R & R!  
  
P.S. My apologies for the cheap self-insertion. I wanted to incorporate some of my most ruthless creations in with the story as well. Oh, and if you see all these sentence fragments, it's because FanFiction.Net doesn't upload the many dot, dot, dot's I put in. Sorry! 


	8. The Hatchling Part 8

The Hatchling- Part 8  
  
One thing that I had never anticipated happening when I became a Raven, was the amount of inactive time that was suddenly thrust upon me. In between the handful of missions and Arena fights that I was eligible to do, there was nothing to do except lie in my sparse little apartment and wait. To me, this was the greatest inconvenience, because with all this time there was nothing for me to do but think, and the more I got to pondering my current position in life and what I had done to get here, I was learning to hate it and despise myself for it. The irony of my situation was intolerable to the point where I had to suppress the urge to kill myself on several occasions. Then reason took over and I was saved for one more day. Dying now wouldn't appease anything or help avenge my parents.  
It was just so hard, knowing that I had become the one thing I had been predisposed to hate. If it were anyone else my age I'm sure that they would be stoked, especially with how far I've come. I had fought my way to the head of the "E" class in the Arena, flawlessly destroying every inexperienced and under equipped Raven with only my default model AC. If it weren't for the fact that my rifle's rounds kept sending their heat levels through the roof, then it probably wouldn't have went so smoothly. I had also managed to improve the generator, back weapons, laser blade and purchased a new rifle. It was far from the "Excellent" unit I longed for, but that I would have to work harder for.  
The real crusher was when I took my first sortie, er, mission. Since Kisaragi didn't have anything for me to do yet, I was given permission to run contracts for other corporations. Since I was so low in rank, only a few low paying jobs were available, but if I hoped to go any higher in the Arena, I'd have to prove my worth on an actual battlefield.  
Anyway, I accepted a request from Crest, one of Kisaragi's main competitors, to eliminate some workers holing up in one of their factories. Apparently, the factory was set to be closed in order to accommodate the increasing need for housing, and the workers at the factory were prepared to use whatever means necessary to keep it open, having modified their work MT's for combat. Obviously whatever weapons they had in their possession was no match for an AC, and that's why they were hiring out a Raven to do their dirty work, rather than risk the lives of any of their security staff. Something was nagging at me as I considered the request, a tightening knot in my stomach telling me that this was the wrong thing to do, but what choice did I have. If I couldn't pull off a few missions, then I wasn't going to get anywhere. Reluctantly I accepted, reminding myself that the money was going towards my killer AC. Little did I know the agony that awaited me when I got there, those final desperate radio calls from the factory workers still crying, pleading in the back of my mind. They never stood a chance...  
  
"They sent in a Raven?!"  
  
"Oh, no..."  
  
"Uaahhh!"  
  
"Help me..."  
  
You couldn't begin to imagine the devastation I felt when I was through removing... murdering, those workers. Maybe if they were terrorists or some other form of degenerate life I wouldn't feel the way I did, but damnit these were just normal people just trying to cling desperately to the last shreds of their decency in this machine-controlled society. Under the delusion that I was going to better my AC and myself, I had become no better than the Ravens I was trying to rid myself of. And for what, a few thousand credits? It made me sick, and I don't think I'd ever be able to rid myself of the shame that I had had purposely brought upon myself today.  
I couldn't get back faster to my AC's lockup and get back to my apartment. I wanted, needed to be alone, fast. I stored my unit hoping to get back to my place quickly, but Laine, my contact, was waiting for me at the holding bay. I wondered why she would take the time and come here of all places. Turns out she was waiting for me, which translated to another inconvenience for me.  
"Not bad for your first mission Scarred, a perfect "S" rank performance."  
"Yeah, real perfect." I replied sarcastically, the workers last words echoing louder now. I felt like shit and it showed in the paleness of my complexion. Well, Laine saw it anyway...  
"Are you okay?"  
"What do you think?!"  
I realized I was acting like a jerk. Laine didn't deserve to get yelled at for caring, plus it was making me even more nauseous. I broke for the nearest bathroom as fast as I could, barely making it to an empty stall before I started retching. I was a miserable sight, throwing up and crying, from both the awful pains in my stomach and the terrible guilt of what I just did. The bathroom door opened a few seconds later and I heard the soft tapping of Laine's heels approach the stall I was bent over in. I expected this whole speech about me not being able to cut it as a Raven and that I was too young, but to my amazement, I didn't hear any of that. Instead she knelt down and put her hand on my shoulder, an attempt to comfort me? Such acts of familiarity between a Raven and their contact was practically unheard of, so why was she bothering with me?  
"It's okay. What you did today was more than any single person should have to experience, especially someone your age."  
I stifled my tears, trying to brush off her seemingly empty plays at sympathy.  
"You don't have to do this..."  
"What, care? What kind of a contact would I be if I didn't try to understand where my people were coming from."  
I noted and favored the way she referred to me as a person, not just a Raven. Maybe she truly did care about me. I wiped my tears and turned to her, extremely appreciative about what she just said.  
"Thanks. I'm sorry."  
"Forget it. Come on, fix yourself up, you're a mess. Is that the face you want people to see when they consider hiring you?"  
I got up wearily and brought myself to a mirror. Laine was right, I looked terrible. My hair, while manageably short, was incredibly disheveled, going in every conceivable direction. God I hated my hair. Almost mockingly it had grown long over my face on the right side, but only short bangs grew on the left, conveniently displaying the large scar that had formed over my left eye from my first fight back in Avalon. The scar will be with me forever, a reminder to everyone that I'll give up anything to get what I needed to get done accomplished, but for now I can clean up my face a little.  
"Not exactly the cutest chick in the nest."  
"That's okay, that's not the reason you're here, is it?"  
"Guess not..."  
"Speaking of which, I have another job lined up for you. That is, if you're up to it right now."  
She turned and started walking out.  
"If you're interested, I'll be at the holding bay."  
I really didn't feel like another mission today, but after all that Laine just said to me, how could I say no? It didn't rid me of my sins completely, but her words were something to think about for now. What's a Raven with a guilty conscious to do?  
A flicker of light overhead. I looked to the small slot window overhead, which actually didn't make much sense because sunlight and fresh air rarely ever came into these underground structures. Something black was fluttering down, landing in the sink that I was standing at. It was a feather, large, black, I swear I had never seen anything so beautiful before. I picked it up and nuzzled it close, letting the soft bristles brush against the disfigured side of my face. Maybe it was a divine symbol, or just a very unlikely coincidence that this sign ended up in my hands, but whatever the case, it filled me with warmth. Killing was shaping out to be an everyday practice for me, and if I wasn't strong enough to go through with it, then I didn't deserve that AC parked outside. So, with this newfound motivation, I strolled outside and back towards the holding bay.  
  
(END CHAPTER EIGHT)  
  
Forgive me if this chapter was a bit gloomy, but I needed to remind readers that this is an angst-based fanfic about a young woman struggling with the world and her own demons. Don't worry, it shouldn't get much darker than this in the future... 


	9. The Hatchling Part 9

The Hatchling- Part 9

I waited.

Of all the excess baggage comes tied in with the status of a Raven, came several other distinguishing features, some more beneficial than others. One was a license to kill, and vice versa the ability to be killed in a single run of bad luck. The other was a ludicrous amount of free time between engagements, mission and arena fights, and the always popular repair period, where the only thing you have to look forward to afterwards was a bill that was comparable to being violently sodomized with a heated rifle round. A little graphic yes, but it is a fact that the cost for parts and repairs has sharply raised since the days of the first generation AC models. Having paid an innumerable amount of these bills, I should know. In any case, it is a necessary process in the life of every pilot, as is the need to kill time between contracts. That's what the Arena is for.

And so, here I am, sitting in this dimly lit multi-story garage complex, awaiting the arrival of my next opponent, Joker. As head of the "D" class Ravens, it was his obligation to answer any challenges to his so-called "title". However, as he had just returned from one of his own missions when he received my challenge, he needed his AC fixed before commencing in any further hostilities. Which meant that both of us would be kept idle for that much longer.

I waited.

I used this inactive time to give my AC a good once over. Not the first time mind you, just needed to do something to kill time. I finally saved up enough to give my unit, which I had dubbed the "Restitution" a new paintjob, making it a sleek black and cream number. I swapped the default legs for a better set of medium-weight humanoid legs. The arms I swapped for a lighter, better energy defense model. Not enough cash to swap the core yet, but I did buy a head with a built-in radar at least. Better FCS, radiator, and a slightly better weapon load out. I decided to lose the rifle in exchange for a more tactical, and more prolific machine gun. No longer in need of the back radar unit, I hocked it and the missile launcher in favor of a heavy hitting rocket launcher and an extra solid-round ammo pack. Though I could have bought a more high damaging cannon, they require the unit to be stationary while firing, unless of course, you had the right kinds of modifications. What exactly those modifications are remains a tightly kept secret. In any case, I now had at least a "Good" ranked AC that was able to get the job done faster and more efficiently, at the cost of the solid ammunition expenses. Maybe I'll swap some of my weapons for some energy-based weapons in the future.

The hum of the garage door across from my location brought me back down to Earth as Joker glided into the room. I say glided rather than stepped because his AC had no legs to walk on. Joker's AC was built atop a hover base and was overall a lightweight machine. His load out was far from intimidating, but the one weapon that worried me the most was the rocket launcher he equipped on his right arm. It had massive destructive potential, with the ability to sever mechanical limbs in one well placed volley. It'd have to be considering you had to manually aim all rocket launchers. You'd have to be pretty damn sure of your aim to equip rockets, so I knew I was dealing with at least a competent pilot. Let's see if he really knew how to use that gun…

_ "You got a lotta' nerve dragging me out here after I just got through busting my ass on a sortie. I guess the modern youth don't value their lives much."_

I sat silent as he looked my AC up and down, trying to formulate a reasonable comeback, but he beat me to it.

_ "Hey, you're that kid! The lucky bastard that got 'er license early! Man, it'll be an honor to put you in your place."_

"I've heard it all before asshole. We'll see if you're still talking shit after you crash and burn."

_ "Nice mouth for a sprat, and fat chance on that front! I've already killed one Raven this week, but it looks like I'll be doubling that count today…"_

_ "If you children are quite done, we'd like to get this match underway already"_, boomed the voice of the referee. Actually, referee was an improper title for him, since he held no authoritative power and could offer no intervention should the fight take a turn for the nasty. Overseer sounded better, cause all he could do was watch and wait. Kind of like all the people that were tuning in to see this fight. Why any sane person would tune in to watch two AC's going at it is beyond me. I mean, aren't there better pastimes for people to enjoy, like sports or music? Or has senseless violence the new thing to delude the masses? I guess this wasn't the best time to ponder the standards of entertainment, I had a fight to win, this one was a new Core. My safeties came off as all my weapon systems came online. The scrolling green message across my computer panels politely welcomed me into the fray, to which I gladly accepted. My Overboost blazed full tilt as I went at Joker with an added fury I reserved for the doubtful and the ignorant. He never knew what hit him…

I sat waiting for my intended core to come in and I couldn't help the spread of this stupid grin that came with all my little accomplishments in life. I just couldn't get the image of Joker's beet-red face out of my head. When he confronted me after the match, blaming a lack of preparation and unfair combat tactics on my part, I swore his head was going to explode. So I hacked a limb off towards the start of the match, he should have been faster! I told him flat out that I couldn't be held responsible for his inadequacies as a pilot, and it took two security guards to keep him from attacking me. Not that I couldn't defend myself on my own, but I had the strangest conviction that he was a biter. Anyway, I am Ms. "D" Class and the last I heard, Joker shipped out a few days ago for a sortie on the other side of the planet…figures. I guess everyone has their own ways of coping with the little nuances of life, and Joker's way was to run like hell. No matter, he was no longer my problem. My only concern at this moment was how much the shipping charges would come out to. What a day for my bank account…

"Um, escuse me! Miss… Scarred?"

I snapped to as the receptionist called my name.

"There's someone on the line for you. Do you know a Kisaragi rep?"

"Oh yeah! Let me at the phone please."

I hastily took the cordless receiver and took it to the corner of the waiting area. Why and how Kisaragi knew to contact me here is beyond me, but it must be pretty damn important.

_ "Salutations Scarred. I trust that you're in high spirits now with your recent Arena advancement."_

"You bet! It wasn't easy either!"

_ "That's not what our battle analysts have told us…"_

"Heh, whatever. So what's up, do you have something for me to do?"

_ "Not exactly. You need this time to finish upgrading your AC. This conversation is to inform you of important information that our team of… 'reconnaissance' staff has come across."_

Pondering what Kisaragi's hackers could have found, I grew nervous as I pressed him for the information.

_ "We've come across several pending contracts requesting the assassination of several high profile Raven targets. All of them hold a personal preference or obligation to a certain corporation. You, are among these targeted pilots."_

My chest tightened as I learned of my supposed death sentence. Who would want to kill me, and why me specifically? Well, while I have the resources, might as well put 'em to use.

"Any idea who is issuing these requests?"

_ "We're unsure, but curiously enough, as we went through the list of pilots and their corporate preferences, we found that no one on the list was affiliated to the Crest corporation."_

So we have a suspect. Crest was the second largest corporate power in the world, surpassed only by the Mirage corporation. They had a history of hostile business tactics and were reputed to be notorious defenders of the machine-controlled that governs the planet. But why would they want to kill me? If anything I had helped out Crest on several occasions, including a revisit to that bloody MT factory they had me clear out the first time.

"So do you think Crest is the one behind this?"

_ "One does not wave accusations at Crest without a substantial_ _amount of evidence… and the military prowess to back such claims. Lacking both of these assets, I can't comment at this point."_

"So what do you suggest I do? After all, you guys are the ones who recruited me."

_ "And need I remind you who was the one who eagerly accepted employment."_

"Ha, touché."

_ "The only advice I can offer you at this time is to try to lay low for awhile. Drawing a lot of publicity will only aid in your killer's pursuit. And for God's sake, choose your mission request with the utmost scrutiny. It is a tried and proven fact that an isolated request offering an extraordinary amount of money can lure any pilot into an ambush. Don't fall prey to such barbaric tactics."_

"Will do, and… thanks for the heads up."

_ "It is nothing. While most of the higher executives at Kisaragi may consider you a superfluous asset, I believe that there is no such thing as an expendable human being."_

"Thank you Mr. President. I'll be in touch."

I hung up the phone and slunk against the wall, extremely crestfallen. Learning of a plot on your life can be extremely frustrating, as if I didn't have enough on my plate already. So, they desire my life, fine, you're welcome top take a stab at it. But no way will I be an easy target to these scum. You'll fight to take my life just as had as I've fought to preserve it. Let the hunt begin…

(END CHAPTER NINE)

Been a while hasn't it? I won't blame you if you've given up and moved on, but to all the faithful readers and authors, if I get just one more review on my stories, I'll be happy. What can I say, college is a very time consuming part of my life. I've also found that I'm playing way too much Counter-Strike than any human being should be. Could we see a possible fanfic along those lines? We'll see, let me worry about my Hatchling and Nineball for now.


	10. The Hatchling Part 10

The Hatchling- Part 10

Hopeless. Utterly hopeless.  
These were the words flashing through my mind as I stared into the cold, unconcerned eye of my enemy's AC. Both my ego and my body were bruised, and my AC was completely scrapped, completely incapable to continue the struggle against my seemingly invincible tormentor. He had me pinned in the corner of this destitute warehouse that I had so foolishly been lured into, and was drawing back his incredibly powerful right arm blade to put an end to the cat-and-mouse game he had led me on for the better part of an hour. The only thing I could think about while I waited for the finishing blow was: why? How did it come to this? What did I do to get into this situation? In the brief time that I had left, I tried to recount as fast as I could the events that led up to this deception and my imminent end.  
A few days ago I was trying to enjoy a nice lunch out, away from the grime and grind of sorties and battles. I figured I owed this to myself, after all the grief I had brought upon myself with vengeful Arena fighters and the discovery that there was an unofficial price on my head. Unfortunately, this was easier said than done, for I made the mistake of trying to get my finances in order during my lunchtime retreat. It was very discouraging to see that the many different incomes I earned were rapidly being consumed by all the tedious little expenses associated with living on my own with no one else to support me. Rent, groceries, repairs, storage… and the sad part was that these are all basic necessities for my everyday life. Don't assume that I'm pampering myself in luscious flats or indulging in top of the line AC services, I live in a dumpy little studio and take only what I need as far as my Core goes. Hell, I shouldn't even be having this sandwich in front of me right now. If I didn't start double-timing my mission participation, then I was gonna be out on my ass with an AC that no one would fix. Maybe Laine could help me out on this one, I had kinda been ignoring her since that last time we spoke, mostly because I thought she was still a little scornful of the shit I blew her. Then again, maybe she was truly as compassionate as she claimed she was. I guess I would have to see. At that moment my server came up to the table, trying to up his sales I guess… poor him.  
"Would you like to see the dessert menu Miss?"  
"Uh, no thanks. Just a glass of water and the check will do…"

"The problem, is that you're too damn picky with your missions." I sat silent as Laine went over my record. I came seeking guidance, and that's what she was giving me… in the form of a punitive lecture. I guess I should be grateful though, Laine had put off a lot of her administrative duties to have this sit-down with me. In any case, I brought this upon myself, so I guess I was going to have to sit through it.  
"The fact that you are hesitant to participate in any activity that would require you to kill is going to severely limit your employment opportunities. Scarred-"  
She looked away from her computer and stared straight into my eyes to make sure that she had my complete attention.  
"I'm well aware of your predisposition to killing, but you're going to have to overcome it if you ever hope to get anywhere in the Global Cortex!"  
"It's just that, who am I, or even G.C., to decide who needs to live or die during the course of a mission?"  
"Neither, it's at the discretion of our clients who outline the parameters of your assignment, we're just here to dispense the requests. They're the one's who pay your bills and help fund this agency, and they expect to see their investments bear fruit to their cause."  
"So, the right to play God is handed out to the highest bidder…"  
"Scarred!"  
My head lowered sharply as Laine laid into me. I guess I had it coming, trying to argue ethics with a corporate liaison.  
"Why did you decide to become a Raven?"  
This question caught me completely off guard. Until now, no one has ever questioned my intentions. It was none of their business, since I performed the jobs I was assigned without question and demanded nothing more than what I was owed.  
"It's complicated…"  
"I've got a bit of time."  
I sighed as I gathered my thoughts.   
"I… needed to kill someone."

"Needed to? Has something changed since then?"   
"Yes, my hit list."

"Oh? Care to explain?"  
"I started with an obsession. I was hell bent on killing the pilot who ruined my life. That was until I started to notice things. Like the fact that any piece of filth can get behind the helm of an AC if they could fit the bill. And I'm not talking about the incompetent, I'm talking about straight up psychopathic assholes: murderers, sadists, criminals, you name it! All with the means to fulfill whatever dark agendas they may have!"

"What do you intend to do about this problem?"

"I intend to take out the garbage."

"Laine looked at me sideways. I guess she never took me for a homicidal maniac. She's obviously never seen any of my Arena performances. Still, I probably just dug myself a very big hole right now. If Laine considered me a threat to the AC community, she could have my license revoked and me thrown in jail. I really need to control my emotions and think before I speak…

Then something happened that I never anticipated. She smirked, and then smugly responded:

"Well, I wish the military shared your same 'go-to-it' attitude. I honestly think this planet would be a better place if they did!"

She hit a few keys on her console, and a small paper came forth from a slot on top of her desk, a built-in printer I surmised.

"Here's a request that came through not too long ago. I think it suits your… unique combat tastes."

I meekly took the paper and gave it a quick glance.

"You can send me confirmation from your cockpit. Don't keep me waiting long though, I have another pilot in mind who would love a shot at that one if you refuse."

A little while later, I'm strapped into my AC, ready to ship out to the 3rd Layered for my new mission. It was a request from Crest, which should have been an immediate deterrent, but I guess Laine had guilted me into taking whatever mission she personally delivered to me. The request was… simple, which sent another pang of doubt through my mind, but again, I wasn't about to waste Laine's efforts. The task was to "liberate" a Crest controlled factory from a group of armed insurgents. The factory was one of Crest's oldest and most profitable facilities, having survived the inevitable effects of time, Crest was not about to give it up to terrorists. Security had done their damn hardest to stop the invasion themselves, but their efforts had been quashed with minimal effort. There was also information that an AC was leading the raid. Hence the armored intervention.

The trip was relatively smooth, but then again transportation always was. If that's one thing that came complimentary, it was an express elevator ride to the front line. After that, I was the only one that had my back. The ride lasted only a couple of hours, letting me catch up on some sleep and get some online business taken care of. Thankfully half the reward contract money was awarded in advance, letting me get my rent and storage fees taken care of. If I managed to pull this sortie off, I could live worry free for at least a month before I needed to replenish my funds. I considered how sick I must have sounded, killing people so that I could live comfortably. I say fuck 'em. They knew the consequences involved in raising arms to a major corporation. My role was inevitable.

The transport stopped. My HUD display lit up automatically as I disengaged from the truck's power source and began feeding on my own. The truck's locks disengaged and the rear hatch opened to release me from my momentary confinement. I stepped warily into the dank underground and let my eyes adjust to the limited light. Looking around I found a desolate environment devoid of any signs indicating this used to be a lively center for the manufacture of AC parts. Well, except for the massive structure that loomed before me, Crest's AC factory. The monolith of rusty, disheveled metal completely contradicted the legendary advancements that were said to have taken place here. It was as if Crest had lost this factory long ago not to terrorists, but to neglect and misuse. This had to be the mistake.

"Are you sure this is the right place? This dump looks like it hasn't seen use in a century."

_ "These are the coordinates given by Crest. For the money they're offering you, I don't think they'd get it screwed up."_

I hesitated to take another step further, but my driver was already packing up.

_ "Try to be in and out quick. This place gives me the willies."_

"Heh, I'll try to make it quick just for you Honey…"

_ "Stop calling me that! You're half my age for Christ's sake!"_

I loved alienating the older staff. They're just so… vulnerable!

"Alright then, back in a few…"

I started running towards the massive factory before me. The place was incredible, at least a couple of hundred acres wide, and several stories high. I couldn't imagine having to commuting here daily to go to work, but figured the place probably housed its employees as well. They'd have to give me some damn good incentive to keep coming back to this kind of place regularly.

From our point of entry, we arrived from on the side of the loading docks, so I made my dash towards the massive loading bay doors. I fruitlessly tried the electronic lock, hoping it still had some life to it. It doesn't hurt to try, ya know? Abandoning the lifeless console, I walked over to the great metal door, noting it's extensive corrosion. One good swipe would take this thing off no problem. I pulled my laser back and kindly but firmly, gave the door what it had coming. I was answered with a horrendous screech as the sliding door buckled from the gash and collapsed to the ground. Looking at the mangled pile alone made me want to get a tetanus shot. Talk about disrepair…

_ "Not the most elegant of entrances, but I guess it will work…"_

"Laine? I didn't know you were supervising this operation!"

_ "My last client met with an unfortunate accident, which just happened to free up my schedule. I figured I check up on you with my newfound free time."_

That probably meant that the other pilot she was looking after was killed. A little morbid, but I guess when you're in her kind of position, you have to have an apathetic outlook when it comes to your clientele.

"Alright then, just don't be a backseat driver."

_ "I'm sorry, but I think I have that right as your operator."_

"Touché…"

I stepped into a massive dock filled with a plethora of shipping equipment, all in more or less the same condition as the exterior of the building… ancient. No one had touched this equipment in years, and yet this was one of Crest's finest facilities? I don't think so…

"I'm starting to think I've been suckered here Laine…"

_ "Give the place a good once over. That'll at least satisfy any qualms that Crest has about the factory being occupied."_

"This place is supposed to be crawling with terrorists, yet there's no one watching the entryways. No sentries, no security devices… This place is a ghost town."

I sat in the dark for a few seconds as Laine appraised the situation.

_ "I'm attempting to contact Crest now. Our agency doesn't exactly approve of sending Ravens on wild goose chases, no pun intended…"_

As soon as she finished saying that we heard a terrific crash come from the next room, followed by a small explosion.

"_Scarred-"_

"I'm on it…"

I started towards the direction of the sound, taking out an innumerable amount of broken doors as I rushed towards the unknown commotion. Common sense told me that I should have awaited Laine's judgment on the mission, but curiosity and the need for funds drove me deeper into the factory. The racket continued for a few more minutes before it grew deathly quiet. I came to a great set of double doors and stopped. The source of the sound had come from behind these doors. I warily approached and found that these doors were functional. I stepped into a great dimly-lit warehouse. The ceiling was extremely tall and the room was filled with a bunch of old metal shipping containers, all of which were gouged and riddled with bullets, evidence that the room was the setting for a ferocious battle. I looked around and saw several bits and pieces that possible were MT scraps, but I wasn't even sure of that, considering the mess that was all around. I looked around for a few seconds before I saw…it.

Standing over a particularly large smoldering heap of metal, a bipedal AC. Sleek and spotless, the machine didn't have a scratch on it, indicating either a lack of skill on the MTs part, or the flawlessness of this pilots technique. From my vantage point behind him, I could see a rear-mounted grenade launcher, an smoking yellow blade on his left arm, and these triangular arm extensions I had never seen before. As I examined him, he turned, noticing that he had an audience, letting me see the powerful right arm blade that he was packing. His AC appeared to be staring straight into my soul as its red eye gleamed from its sensors processing the new machine. A red and black paint job to accentuate its potential ferocity, and I was staring at my worst nightmare. No, it wasn't Nineball, but then who?

_"What the… This wasn't part of the mission outline."_

I prepped my machinegun, anticipating violent reprisal for my intrusion. Why did the pilot's voice sound familiar?

_"Ah well, maybe I'll get a nice bonus for taking you out. You picked the wrong party to crash little birdie…"_

(END CHAPTER 10)

Took me long enough huh? If any of m readers are still out there, I'll try (note the word "try") to get the next chapter out as fast as possible. Ciao…


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